


Blank Canvas

by bossbeth



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Artist Kara Danvers, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Smut, non-conventional use of paint brushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 17:24:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bossbeth/pseuds/bossbeth
Summary: Lena has some work to do; Kara has some painting to do. Too bad they're both so easily distracted.





	Blank Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> For Jazz - the horny wind beneath my thirsty wings. I love you.

Lena had been in relationships before - long ones, serious ones - yet few that managed to be both serious and go on long enough to beg the housing question.

The fact was that Lena liked to live alone. Privacy was vital - she had a lifetime’s worth of communal living at boarding school, thank you - and being unobserved meant she could relax without having to act a Luthor, or attempting to reinvent what it meant to be a Luthor.

Kara, in this as in all other things, was different. With Kara, Lena didn’t have to pretend, or try to be anything other than herself. Lena wasn’t even too sure of who her true self was, but it came peeking out of her in private moments with Kara, and the glimpses were intoxicating.

Yet they hadn’t discussed cohabitating, not seriously; the conversation was casual, in the things they left behind. Kara had a corner of her closet. Lena left a spare laptop cable. Kara kept a bottle of Lena’s preferred probiotic supplement in the fridge, and always had the latest issue of her favorite science journal. Lena had keycard access put on her balcony so Kara could let herself in, and kept a sewing kit on her bedside dresser with a dish of spare buttons.

What was there to discuss, really? It was an impasse that boiled down to the fact that Lena’s place was secure beyond reproach, so she could feel truly safe there when alone - but Kara’s home was a gift from Alex, the love the Danvers sisters shared as fundamental to it as the mortar that held the bricks together. How could Lena ask her to give that up?

So they just sort of settled on one spot or the other, depending on the needs or impulses of the moment.

When Lena explained over text that it was going to be a long weekend, and she needed to keep her nose to the grindstone, the response was an immediate “I’ll bring you lunch!” Sure enough, thirty minutes later, Kara was floating through her living room, spiritedly talking about the amazing beignets place she had just discovered.

Irritation and affection warred in Lena’s chest - irritation at being interrupted, and affection at just how much powdered sugar already dusted Kara’s eager face. “Can beignets even be lunch?”

“Anything can be lunch if you eat it at noon,” said Kara.

“If the nature of lunch is a fixed moment in time,” teased Lena, “why do you believe so strongly in breakfast for dinner?”

“Um, how dare you.” Kara plopped a very large to-go cup of coffee in front of Lena before she set out a plate of beignet and lemon curd, and went back to plating the rest for herself. “Breakfast is totally different. Breakfast foods are humanity's greatest invention, and my heart is always open to them, day or night.” She took a bite of fried dough and lot out a low moan of satisfaction that gave Lena goosebumps. “Speaking of, this is an appetizer for actual lunch.”

Lena laughed. “Of course. What is _ actual _ lunch?”

Kara dug into the plastic bag and presented a large paper cylinder in triumph. “Étouffée!”

“Cajun, hmm?” Lena took as dainty a bite of beignet as she could manage and narrowed her eyes. “These aren’t from down the street, are they?”

“In a manner of speaking,” said Kara grandly, placing the rest of their lunch on the coffee table with two spoons across the top before settling next to Lena on her sofa, turning her body towards her girlfriend. “So, what are you working on today?”

When discussing projects or L-Corp initiatives, Lena appreciated that she never had to talk down to Kara. Kara was good at asking questions if needed, and making her own connections unprompted - and usually, at the end of the rundown, Lena found herself emboldened by Kara’s enthusiastic interest, and was all the more ready to dig into the problem.

Sure enough, as she completed the overview, she found her brain caught on an angle she hadn’t considered, and fell into an immediate silence, absorbed in her documentation, writing down notes with a feverish intensity.

Some time later - ten minutes? Twenty? - a tapping sound dragged her out of her reverie.

Kara was still tucked in the far corner of the sectional, playing herself on the chessboard idly.

_Clack._

_Clack. _

“Thank you for lunch,” said Lena pointedly.

“Oh! No problem!” Kara snapped to attention, all smiles. “My pleasure.”

Lena pressed again. “It means a lot that you took time out of your day to check on me.”

“Not at all!” Kara’s expression was so bright. “It’s my day off. Alex was pretty insistent about me not supering today, even a little. Ever since she started dating Kelly, she’s really into ‘work’ ‘life’ 'balance.’” Each word got its own emphatic air quote.

Lena felt her attention drifting from her work, and that lack of focus set off a flash of irritation in her. She had shit to do. “Well, I appreciate it, Kara, and I’m sorry I’m too wrapped up in work to entertain you.”

Kara waved grandly. “No need to entertain me. I can entertain myself!”

Easier said.

“How do you not own a television?” asked Kara not even fifteen minutes later, a note of marvel in her voice. “You don’t own any blu rays? DVDs? _ Laserdiscs _?”

Lena let out a flat hum, eyes not lifting from her spreadsheet. “You know how I feel about movies.”

“I do,” said Kara, exasperated, hands on her hips. “But I thought we were making headway on that!”

At last, Lena sighed, took off her glasses, and gave Kara a level stare. “Darling.”

Kara scrunched her nose, chagrined. “I’m distracting you.”

“You’re distracting me,” agreed Lena, schooling her irritation into something more gentle. “I can have a TV brought in if you like -”

Kara’s hands went up in supplication. “I really don’t want to be -”

Lena saw the email notification go off in the corner of her eye, and put her glasses back on, focusing on her screen once more. “I got you that paint set for your birthday. It’s in the study.”

Kara shoved her hands under her armpits, petulant. “I’m not a child you have to entertain.”

But clearly, the idea wasn't without merit - Kara did go to her backpack and fish out her sketchbook, and set herself on the corner of the sofa, still at last and soon lost in her own focus.

They were like that for a few hours, quiet.

Lena was almost done when she realized the data just didn’t make sense, ever so slightly.

It took a quarter of an hour of digging, but finally, she discovered a foundational spreadsheet given to her by a subordinate was half formulas incorrectly copied, and therefore incorrectly referenced.

Her entire week’s findings weren't shot, but certainly firmly twisted - and God knows how long it would take to make it right.

Anger surged through her. This, this right here, was why she shouldn’t trust people. She should just do it all herself. She could make it right. Every time.

Frustration was tactile and hot, just under her skin. She breathed deep, centering herself, grounding herself in the physical space around her... and realized all at once she was alone on the sectional. She hadn’t even noticed.

She took another deep breath. Be present, Lena told herself. Be here.

So she looked towards her open kitchen, and observed.

Kara had started off by sketching next to Lena on the sofa, but apparently, when it came time to paint, she had made an impromptu easel on the island by propping her clipboard up against an assortment of kitchen implements, anchored by Lena’s mortar and pestle. She was lost in thought, uncommonly absorbed in what she was doing.

Lena had paused just in time to see Kara step back to eyeball her progress, shaking her head and rummaging through the kitchen for something more sturdy to prop her easel up against - deciding on a colorful mixer Lena had never gotten around to using. Kara then shucked her button up, standing there in a cotton tank top, jeans slung low on her hips, feet bare and flexing as she scratched her foot against the opposite leg. She considered the rough blocks of color on her sketch as she set her shirt on the counter, then did her hair into a bun with an inattentive gesture.

The flex of her now bare arms, her extreme focus, the skin now exposed on her neck... All at once, Lena was _ very _ in the moment, and didn’t particularly give a shit about the data.

She shut her laptop, set it on the coffee table in front of her, and moved to the kitchen, resting her chin on Kara’s shoulder to peer at her sketch.

“How’s it going?” she asked softly, enjoying the texture of cotton and skin against her chin.

“‘S’going,” said Kara, rubbing her nose with a pigmented finger.

There was something so expressive and familiar in Kara’s art, something distinctly Kara. There was a thoughtless abstraction to it that carried through a compassionate warmth, an inexplicable kindness. Lena felt a little more calm just seeing the progress of Kara’s efforts, suddenly happy that her home could provide such a safe space.

The last lingering dregs of her anger ebbed away, just like that. Lena gave her girl a grateful squeeze.

Kara agitated her brush in a glass of grey water. “_ You’re _ distracting _ me _.”

Lena knew Kara was teasing, but felt a little shame for rebuffing her earlier. However could she make it up?

Lena started by teasing Kara's neck with the tip of a fallen strand of hair. She heard Kara’s soft laugh, and saw the rim of her cheeks plump as she grinned.

“You know,” said Kara, blotting her brush on a stained tea towel, “I think it’s time for me to explore new media.”

“Mm,” said Lena.

“Yeah.” Kara turned in place so she was facing Lena, settling her hands on Lena’s hips. “There are so many fascinating means of self-expression out there.”

“You don’t say.”

Kara leaned forward, breath hot on Lena’s mouth… and she swept her up in a hasty bridal carry, drowning out Lena’s shocked gasp with her own delighted laughter. Kara began to head toward the bedroom, then paused with a “Gosh!” With cartoonish exaggeration, she turned them around in a broad swing, Lena laughing wildly at the movement.

When they made it through the open floor plan to the kitchen, Kara dipped Lena towards the counter with a gesturing nod of her head. “My brush, please.”

Lena picked it up, and brushed it against Kara’s chin as they plodded towards the bedroom. “I didn’t know you were so particular about your tools.”

Kara cocked an eyebrow, leaning her face closer to Lena’s with a secretive smile. “Every artist has their favorites.”

Lena was placed on the edge of the bed, staring up at Kara with wide eyes. Kara leaned close, plucking the brush from her fingers, and tossing it on the bed beside her. She took Lena’s empty hands and placed them on her hips, smiling down as she ran her own palms down Lena’s arms, finally chucking Lena under the chin.

“Hi,” she said simply, eyes warm and happy.

It took Lena’s breath away sometimes, the way Kara looked at her. “Hi,” she answered, voice quiet.

Kara pushed her back against the bed with a kiss, chasing Lena’s motion with her own body, deepening the kiss as they collapsed together in the center of the mattress. Kara paused only to pull Lena’s sweater over her head, then her cami, her pants and underwear tugged down her legs in one movement. Lena was eager to help with hands made clumsy by desire, but when all was said and done, Kara grabbed her by the wrists, pinning them over her head as she rose and settled her hips in the cradle of Lena’s.

“Can you keep these up here for me?” Kara clenched around Lena’s wrists ever so slightly for emphasis.

“Yes,” said Lena, breathless.

Kara leaned back on her knees, taking in the sight below her. Lena’s breath stuttered in her chest, a little flustered by the keen, deliberate observation. She wished very badly she had put on a cuter bra this morning, now that she was wearing nothing else, but the hungry expression on Kara’s face as she scanned over Lena slowly held no complaints.

Lena endured the scrutiny for as long as she was comfortable before asking, feeling a little foolish and inexplicably shy, “See anything you like?”

Broken out of her trance, Kara smiled, then reached across the bed. “Just studying my canvas.”

She grabbed the brush.

Kara dragged the blunted wooden end against Lena’s skin, long slashes drawn lightly. Lena shivered with every stroke, breath a labored gasp.

“How’s that?” asked Kara, voice soft and hushed, head cocked with a gentle smile.

“All right,” answered Lena, the word stuttering into a laugh as Kara worked her way down the length of Lena’s torso, brush end catching at the sensitive stretch marks on Lena’s stomach. Kara walked backwards on her knees, resting her weight lightly on Lena’s thighs and shins before finally just laying between Lena’s outstretched legs.

“Mind if I keep going?” She pressed a kiss on Lena’s thigh before propping herself up on her forearms. “I’m just fascinated by the subject.”

“Please,” said Lena with a small, satisfied sound. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

They laughed at each other softly, but all too soon, Kara’s focus was drawn back to the matter at hand. She played with the brush’s soft end this time, drawing lazy shapes around the swell of Lena’s waist, the dip of her hip, the coarse texture of her hair.

Attention still on the meandering motion of her brush, she absently drew Lena apart with one hand, leaned closer, and blew.

Lena felt her body react.

Kara glanced up, made eye contact with Lena, took the brush into her mouth, and sucked. Lena couldn’t help but whimper at the shape of Kara’s lips as they closed around the tip.

Kara opened her mouth, dragging the brush against her tongue before letting it slide against Lena’s inner thigh.

“You know,” said Lena, brow cocked, “you can cut out the middleman there. If you like.”

Kara laughed. “I told you. I’m exploring different media.” She blew against the wet painted on Lena’s skin, and Lena clenched at the contact. “So that’s when I paint from my mouth...”

Kara’s free hand went back to Lena’s center, pressing her lips together before drawing them apart again with a wet sound even Lena could hear.

“I wonder what it’s like when I paint from your cunt.”

And Kara swiped the brush across her clit.

It was not enough - it was a nothing touch, really - and yet far too much. Keyed up from this slow teasing, Lena’s hands flew down, gripping the bed sheets.

“Ah ah _ ah _,” said Kara, staring up at Lena, expression serious.

A flare of irritation jolted through Lena, but against her every instinct, her arms went back up and over her head, fingers digging into her own forearms to keep them in place.

Despite all her attention, Kara must have thought Lena not quite wet enough. Kara parted her lips with the blunted end of the brush, and blew again. Lena felt herself pulse.

Kara’s finger dipped in, and Lena groaned, craving more. But Kara kept it to a single broad forefinger - just drawing her slickness out of her, working her deliberately, examining her most intimate reactions as she did so.

It was inexplicably effective. If Lena wasn’t wet enough before, she certainly was after she came, a desperate sound wrenching from her throat as Kara coaxed her through it, watching her body shake with focused intention.

“There we go,” said Kara, bringing her brush to Lena’s sensitive core. “That’ll do.”

Kara dragged the brush through Lena and painted her stomach with her own come, chasing her strokes as she went with her tongue.

Lena had just come. She should have felt tired. She should have needed a moment. But she didn’t - she just wanted.

She wanted with all of her.

“God, please, Kara don’t tease, just - “

If anything, it made her want more.

“Your hand, please, I need your fingers -”

Kara didn’t hesitate. She pressed her mouth against the skin of Lena’s thigh, and sucked, and, brush discarded, gathered Lena’s moisture with three fingers. Lena was so relaxed from coming once, and so fucking wet, that Kara sunk all the way without any resistance.

“Oh, wow,” Kara laughed, breath hot against the skin of Lena’s thigh, “Too bad you’re not enjoying this.”

Lena kicked at Kara. “Don’t joke, you ass, please, just fuck me, please - “

Kara grinned, and focused on her craft.

\---

“I must say,” said Lena, “I’m fascinated by the range of your oeuvre.”

“Oh, you know, I’m a performance artist at heart.” Kara laughed, stretching, her arms tucked under her head. “Installation work, too. It’s all about the context of the space.”

Lena felt her heart beat slow to normal again, and turned her head only, regarding Kara’s profile.

If could be like this every day. Every day she and Kara could distract each other, just like this.

She took a deep breath, and said, “Maybe we both need a new space.”

Kara rolled over on her side, propping her head against her hand. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe you don’t move into my place. And I don’t move into your place.” Lena rolled towards Kara, tugging the sheet up to cover herself. “Maybe we find a new place, together.”

It was a risk. They hadn’t lived together at all yet, not really. It was far more of a commitment than simply consolidating to one space. A million reasons not to do it raced through Lena’s mind.

But Kara just smiled, expression radiant. “That’s amazing. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s find a place, for you and me.”

Lena smiled, and at Kara’s encouraging nod wound herself in her girlfriend’s loose limbs.

Kara pressed a kiss into Lena’s brow, and Lena felt the shape of her smile against her skin. “Maybe we buy an old building and everyone we know can move in too, like a sitcom.”

Lena laughed. “As long as the walls are thick enough that you can still fuck me at the volume to which I’ve become accustomed, we can have whatever neighbors you want.”

“You’re filthy when you’re sated.”

Lena stared at her pointedly. “You just drew on me with my own come.”

“That’s me, though,” said Kara, kissing her way up Lena’s shoulder. “I’m filthy all the time.”

“Oh, are you?”

“When you’re around to inspire me?” Kara laughed. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah sure I can write smut, sure. Fuck, how do y'all do this?
> 
> I'm on twitter as [@heybossbeth](https://twitter.com/heybossbeth) and on tumblr as [@bossbeth](https://bossbeth.tumblr.com/). Come say hey.
> 
> I, like Lena Luthor, flourish under kind attention - comments, bookmarks, and kudos make me want to write more. Thanks.


End file.
